


Resolve

by Perelka_L



Series: Come Along with Me [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Amputee Obito, But Obito needs love and Madara will give it to him, Gen, Hospitalization, M/M, Magic, Obito ends up with two dads, Surprisingly Soft Uncle Madara, Trauma, Wait is Obito's grandma canon, kinda OOC, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-09-23 06:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20335690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perelka_L/pseuds/Perelka_L
Summary: Obito in one swoop loses everything he ever had, parents, arm and leg being only a start of the list. Madara tries his best to accommodate.





	1. Chapter 1

Madara knew he would surrender the second he would see him. So even when he received the call he tried to just not move, not go across the country to see a newly orphaned cousin, someone from far branch of family that didn’t even share a name with him anymore. 

A little wrinkle between Hashirama’s eyebrows was not something Madara could resist too long so here he was, in the hospital, trying to focus on his own reflection in the glass instead of a child in the bed in the room. Anything.

“I wouldn’t be able to take care of him,” the only family this child had left was his grandmother, the last one bearing the name of Uchiha before her husband passed his own surname to his children. “The only ones I could contact other than you already have a child, young Kagami, they are not ready to take such burden.”

Madara focused on his own face in the reflection harder. The child apparently was stuck for two days in the cave-in, next to corpses of his mother and father with half of his body squashed by rocks and other half that could still feel trembling from cold of the cave - which, apparently, was why doctors could use his parents’ organs to fill in the child’s body. 

Just a family trip turning into a disaster.

Obito, with his scarred face, stitches all over right side of small body, without right leg and arm and surrounded by machinery plugged into his body looked entirely too fragile, delicate. Madara didn’t feel pity when looking at him, merely sadness.

Of course he was a perfect candidate to take care of this child - Obito needed family, but nobody of the Uchiha would be willing to take this burden, nobody that had own children and family. Madara was alone, didn’t have a job, no ties that a potential caretaker would have to break to take care of the child.

It was Madara, or orphanage. And Madara wondered if old granny knew how much time he and Izuna spent in one of such place. 

He couldn’t say no.

He entered the room. Green, smell of hospital heavy in the air, machinery humming and beeping next to Obito. There was water and some fruit left on the table, surely brought in by Obito’s grandmother, though Madara doubted Obito was allowed to eat anything at all at this point. Boy probably wasn’t even allowed to be conscious, his body still stitching together what was supplied as new organs but mind not allowed to deal with reality. 

One could wonder if boy even knew what the situation was. Did he remember his last moments of consciousness, with his parents? Or did he remember how it was like, stuck in the cave?

He approached Obito, gently putting a hand on his forehead, the other moving covers away to glance at stitching and bandages covering boy’s body. He’d touch, but he wasn’t sure who could be around, who could be awake even this late in the evening. He focused like this and nodded to himself. Boy was healing slowly, a bit too slowly. Doctors did a fine job sewing him up together, even if they couldn’t save everything, but the boy was weak.

Nothing Madara couldn’t help with. A simple whisper of a favour, nothing ceremonial or grand, sealed with a simple kiss on a forehead and a leaf of mint on a tongue. Boy will be fine, but Madara will have to stick around for a few additional days.

Not more. Hospitals were a terrible place - necessary for sterile needle to pierce skin, but the worst place to heal, both in body and mind. Madara may have nothing to do but the smell of city made him nauseous and - even though he didn’t sign any papers yet - he wanted to show Obito the forest.

Madara wasn’t aware there was one more pair of eyes watching the boy with intent, but their sight was hidden in a place too dark for senses. 

* * *

Obito was quiet. His grandma claimed he used to be a loud and cheerful boy but after he woke up and after his grandmother explained as gently as she could that he was now an orphan, an amputee, that he lost everything he ever had, well… No wonder he was quiet. She quietly whispered to Madara that boy quickly ran out of tears, 

He greeted “Uncle Madara”, as his grandma introduced him, with an empty gaze and a small nod. Madara understood. 

Obito didn’t speak, be it after being discharged from hospital or when signing papers - Madara insisted boy at least heard what was going to happen with him, as well as he couldn’t leave the boy on a wheelchair alone. Obito only listened to lawyer, to Madara describing himself - jobless, familyless and living in a small town, relying on state pension but self-sufficient to a degree, as official story went - some doubts exchanged back and forth. He didn’t react to quips or statements much, though sometimes he nodded when asked something directly. He nodded when layer asked him if the arrangement was suitable.

He nodded when Madara asked him if he understood the situation. He nodded when Madara asked him if he understood where they were going when they were in a train. He didn’t nod when Madara asked him anything about his feelings or emotions, but it was alright. 

Madara understood.

When they left train on a near-empty station near Madara’s forest, he folded the chair and left it aside on the ground, along with luggage - one of Zetsus will take care of it later but until they reach forest it was useless - and took boy in his arm. Obito clung to him, something resembling panic visible in his eyes, eyeing their things left alone on the ground of the station.

That was always better than that empty look, and Madara wanted to coax it out of the boy, little by little. 

“You heard the official story, right?” Obito nodded, staring at Madara with wide eyes. “Truth is a bit different, but I do it to protect myself, in a way.” 

Madara didn’t direct his steps to the town, no, he protectively pressed boy closer to himself and went into the foliage, choosing to go between trees instead of a barely visible path. Obito curled closer to him, unsure.

“I live in this forest, pretty deep in it. We don’t have a proper postal address, so I needed to make something up, don’t worry.” The crack of dry twigs under his feet was satisfying, cool air of the forest embracing him again. This was his home, his path, his very place and he took in a satisfied breath. 

“Don’t worry, we have water, plenty of wood and a proper cover under our heads. It may not be what you were used to,” he eyed the boy, still clinging and listening to him with surprise - or, shock - clear on his face. “But I will do all I can to try and make it comfortable for you.”

“I declared already you will be homeschooled,” He continued. “But if you wish otherwise I can send you to local school. It’s summer, so you have plenty of time for decision and to get used more or less. Will you think about it?” Madara waited until he felt the boy nod slowly. “I do realize it’s not a lot of time, but I think giving you whatever normalcy I can is a priority.”

It was dark and cool, leaves covering them from sunlight. Obito was looking around the forest with interest but Madara continued on. In his head, he was listing down topics he needed to talk over with Obito - or, at least, describe. It was pointless to treat Obito like his own child, but he couldn’t be too harsh as well. 

Madara’s life was far from normal and he knew it perfectly. The point was in how quickly he could reveal it all to Obito. He had to be slow… but on the other hand child’s life was already upside down as it was. 

“I grow most things myself but I go get shopping done once in a while, as well as we have water and electricity.” He pointed at powerline visible between trees with his beard and Obito’s eyes followed. “It’s not like we are completely away from any civilisation, don’t worry.”

“Are you a fugitive?”

It was a first thing Madara heard Obito say. He stopped mid-step to stare at boy in his arms, who looked away when he realized what he said, maybe he’d cover his face with hand - stump of his arm moved in a way that suggested the desire - but he was still clinging to Madara. And Madara allowed himself a quiet, shook his head with a smile and moved on.

“No, I am not. I live like this for a much different reason.”

And Obito eyed him, now curious, but Madara didn't continue the topic. Not yet, that is. 

There was a cry from above them and Obito immediately looked up, then glanced at Madara, almost fearfully. That wouldn’t do, Madara decided. The boy had too many revelations for one day and Madara didn’t even introduce boy to the Zetsus, or even Hashirama - because Madara could bet Hashirama would not wait and just screw all the rules and just appear to the boy one day, most likely behind Madara’s back if Madara were to ask him specifically to _ not do it _. For now though…

“Hawks,” he said, simply. “They are mine, I will introduce you to them later.”

Obito eyed him, less scared but there was something more distrustful in his expression, the attempt at hiding the _ “you’re pulling my leg” _on his face. Madara will have time to deal with that, though, they were getting close and Madara, despite being relatively strong as well as Obito being relatively light, could feel the boy’s weight in his increasingly tired muscles. 

Madara’s hut was small and wooden, there wasn’t much else to it in Madara’s opinion, but Obito straightened up, very much curious about his new home. If boy could, he’d most likely run around house, explore, personally inspect every patch of greenery clearly not being part of forest, touch every piece of wood that made house and stairs and furniture outside. 

“I will show you everything later.” Madara told him. “For now, if you don’t mind, I carried you to middle of the forest and I am not in my prime anymore.”

Madara focused on spells around house, all reacting to Obito’s presence but not reacting due to Madara being so close. He’ll rectify that later, when the boy will be asleep - there will have to be a little ceremony to do so and until he does that, he won’t be able to move outside without house reacting. He climbed stairs into porch and pushed the door open - he didn’t need to lock them plus now, with his arms full of a curious child, it would be a bit of a struggle to fish out keys anyway. 

It was few weeks since he was home, waiting for Obito to stabilize and wake up and for all paperwork to be done, but house was spotless. Zetsus did their job just fine, despite the fact that Madara extremely rarely left the hut or even the forest for so long. He finally put Obito down on a couch - wood and wicker but with enough pillows and soft blankets to be comfortable - and sat next to him. 

“Want to share first impressions?” He asked after a bit. It was quiet but not silent, wind between leaves and sounds of birds effectively filling the time. Obito found a softer pillow and propped himself on it, still looking around, eyes tracing wooden furniture, symbols written on walls, herbs drying here and there. 

“You’re weird.” He finally said. “You’re really weird.” 

Madara could accept that.

“Do you want to eat something now, or later?” he asked, but Obito only propped himself on a pillow and shook his head as he hid his face into soft material. Madara watched as small body started to tremble, small sobs muffled by a pillow, before turning around and leaving. He ached to hug Obito close, to reassure him that he wasn’t scary, that it will be fine - but he was a stranger for the boy, such a thing could make more harm than good. 

Instead, he stepped outside. There was already a white figure waiting in front of the hut, luggage and folded wheelchair in it’s warped hands. Madara left the wheelchair on the porch, brought the luggages inside. Obito took in a sharp breath, trying to calm down, but Madara merely passed by him, suitcases in hands. He left Obito’s one in living room, and waited for a break in sniffles and sobs.

“If there is anything I can do, call me. I will go unpack for now.”

Obito looked up from the pillow and Madara again resisted the urge to take Obito into his arms, his face and eyes too red, cheeks too wet. 

“Can you…” Obito paused, looking around helplessly. “Can you remind me what was your name?”

“It’s Madara.” He nodded at boy. “Take your time and don’t hesitate to ask me anything.”

Obito nodded, and that was enough for Madara. 

* * *

When Madara was done sorting through dirty clothes and doing base preparations for laundry, he checked on Obito. The boy was asleep, pillows under his body neatly covered by blankets, and Hashirama watched him curiously, kneeling next to the couch.

“He cried a lot,” said Hashirama, quietly. “He was so tired, he fell asleep.”

“No wonder. Suddenly he has to live with a complete stranger in a completely unknown place and without support of his own body, at that.” Madara took Obito’s suitcase and opened it, trying to assess more or less what was inside, he knew it was his grandmother that packed him so it shouldn’t be too bad. Madara made a mental note to help Obito unpack and ask what else should he ask his grandmother to send them in the first place. 

Briefly he thought about possibility of requesting something from boy’s house - technically, all of parent’s belongings were now Obito’s, though not much he could do with them on his own. Madara could, technically, use those assets, but he had no desire to do so, and even if, he’d ask Obito first, no matter how little boy would understand. 

All those things Obito still had to learn about his new future, and he ended up sleeping off the chaos while barely scratching the surface. Madara eyed Hashirama, and then the boy. 

“He can’t know about you yet.” Madara sat on the floor, next to Hashirama. “Not yet, not without him knowing the basics.”

Hashirama hummed, reached out and stroked boy’s hair, wondering.

“I could make him a new leg.” He murmured. “Simple thing out of wood…”

Madara blinked. It was… alluring. No doubt being locked in one place - a thoroughly new place - is an agony for Obito. Hashirama was deliberate in his choice, in his temptation. Such help wouldn’t demand magic to use, merely to create, but he would still need to explain Hashirama to Obito. 

He could lie. He didn’t want to.

“Time. For now he needs time.” Madara replied weakly, perfectly aware of Hashirama’s burning eyes on him. “He needs time and knowledge, he didn’t even meet Zetsus yet.”

Hashirama smiled, came a bit closer and kissed Madara, gently. Madara closed his eyes instinctively and when he opened them, Hashirama was gone, leaving behind a flower of sweet briar in boy’s hair and smell of a mix of flowers Madara never dared to identify.

Madara sighed, zipped Obito’s suitcase and took it to what used to be guest room and now was Obito’s room and went to prepare it for boy’s needs. 

* * *

Obito woke up. He blinked, disoriented and sleep still stubbornly clinging to his minds.

It was soft and dark. He reached out - he didn’t reach out. Obito stared at his hand in annoyance but, no, wait, he no longer had a hand. In hospital it was enough to make him burst into tears but now all he felt was a pang of annoyed acceptance. Stump was enough anyway, so he reached out again. A pillow, unlike the ones he remembered from Madara’s mildly uncomfortable wooden couch. 

Sitting up was more difficult, but as long as he remembered which side of body to favour he could do it relatively fast, plus slower place allowed him to register things a bit more fast. 

He was in bed, covered by a blankets and pillows. Bedding seemed fresh, the smell of herbs Obito couldn’t recognize was faint but clear. He was undressed to his undies and shirt, probably Madara like Obito’s mom wasn’t in favour of jumping into bed fully-clothed. 

Obito forced his thoughts to not focus on his mother.

Obito was a bit stuck on bed - he didn’t want to crawl in dark room, with no idea even _ where _the room was in the hut, and anyway what hour was it? Would he wake Madara up? But when he fully sat up, he spotted a little sliver of light under the door. He inhaled. 

“Madara?” He tried, but his throat rebelled and instead of a call he let out a croaked whisper. Obito could feel his eyes burn - he struggled to talk as it was, he had thousands of questions but even his own voice was annoyingly _ too much _ for him - he coughed and inhaled again because damn it, why can’t he just shout like he used to? 

“Madara?” Not a shout, but closer to speech in volume. Obito trembled and hoped it was enough because he knew he wouldn’t be capable of anything louder. 

Fortunately, within seconds he heard steps approach the room and the door opened. Obito couldn’t see Madara’s face like this but the outline of those ridiculously long hair was clear enough.

“You woke up.” He said. “I thought you’d sleep through the evening and night.”

Obito shook his head. 

“Close your eyes” Obito blinked, confused but then managed to shelter his eyes quick enough when he saw Madara move towards a lamp in the corner - but the light wasn’t bright, it was barely there but enough for Obito to see and not feel like his eyes were burning. The lamp itself was made of a translucent rock, covering a lightbulb.

“A salt lamp.” Madara explained as he sat down next to Obito. “I imagine you got used to darkness.”

Obito nodded and then realized - he had no concrete reason to call Madara. He was alone and confused, but had had not a single request he could blame his behaviour on. He glanced at Madara who merely observed him from a corner of his eye, looked around helplessly and he noticed his suitcase. 

He had no idea what grandma packed him. 

“I emptied the wardrobe when you slept.” Madara spotted where Obito was looking. “I can help you unpack, if you want to, plus you’ll be able to tell me what you could need.”

And Obito nodded. 

Madara lit the main lights on (he gave Obito time to adjust to more light), opened the suitcase on the bed and together they peered inside. There were mostly clothes and some shoes and underwear, toothbrush and hairbrush and - Obito smiled a bit - his favourite towel. Madara opened wardrobe and put things around, showing Obito where was what and taking care to put them in places Obito could reach from wheelchair. There was little personal items: phone and phone charger, a small notebook but without pens for it, a photo of Obito and his parents. 

Obito immediately gave it to Madara and Madara put it on highest shelf without comment. 

“If there is anything you need, tell me.” He said when they finished. “Your grandmother promised to bring anything she can, can be from your house or anything you owned.”

And Obito shook his head. There was nothing he could think of at the moment, at least nothing vital. 

“I must warn you though,” Madara took the suitcase after ensuring all pockets were empty and hid it on highest shelf. “It can be a bit boring here. I don’t have much for entertainment as most I do is work, but you should think about how you wish to spend your free time.”

Obito wondered. He couldn’t even go into the forest.

“...My console, I guess.” That should suffice, for now. 

Madara raised an eyebrows but nodded. 

* * *

Warm soup wasn’t what Obito was used to this late - it was almost 11! How scandalous - but Madara waved an arm and said it was pointless to send Obito to bed if he slept during the day. Plus, not like Obito had anything to entertain himself with. 

Obito wasn’t used to this silence. Back home he was used to _ sounds _, be it a TV on in room, a hum of fridge or other machinery, his parents doing something behind the wall, noise on street outside. There was always something happening. Here, he was stuck on a wheelchair, with nothing to do. All he had was Madara, whom he knew absolutely nothing about. 

Which… was an idea.Warm soup relaxed his throat and body a bit (Obito couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, except “something vegetabley and herbey”), so at least that was temporarily taken care of. He was a bit of a clumsy and slow eater - he was righthanded before the… accident, but he more or less learned to hold a spoon in least disastrous way when he was in hospital. 

“Could you tell me about yourself?” He asked quietly between one spoon and the other. 

Madara wasn’t eating, instead focused on a seemingly extremely old book in front of his nose - that is, before Obito voiced out. 

“About myself, hm?” Madara wondered and closed a book with a finger between pages he finished on. “Would it be fine with you if I asked same question?” 

Obito shook his head and then added a “No.”, just because he could. Madara didn’t smile but something warmer settled in his eyes. 

“Okay, so.” Obito cleaned his throat, experimentally. “I know that your name is Madara, you were somehow related to mom and that you don’t have a job.” He thought it through. “And that you are not a fugitive.”

“That would be correct.”

“I have two questions then: How old are you and why then are you living out there?”

Madara used a dried leaf lying nearby as a bookmark before closing the book and putting it aside. “Those things are a bit related. Would you believe if I told you I’m in my mid-forties?”

Obito raised eyebrows. He wasn’t a good judge of people’s age - usually world was divided into babies’, ‘peers’, ‘teens’, ‘adults’ and ‘elders’ and that was enough - but he would never believe that Madara was older than his dad. With those strong arms, really pretty hair and deep voice he made Obito think of someone, approximately, younger than his parents. 

“Nope.” He mumbled. “How is that related then? Are you a vampire?” Another spoon of soup. 

Madara _ snorted _. 

“You are surprisingly close.” _ What _. “As a matter of fact, I am a witch.”

Obito blinked again.

“A witch.”

A nod. 

“You’re lying to me.”

And Madara maybe heard that little bit of disappointment in his voice - Obito tries to not feel _ disappointed _in adults he is forced to be increasingly more dependent on but at this point it is becoming very hard - as he replied:

“I am not.” And he was serious, Obito didn’t know him for any long stretch of time but he could sense that this low tone of voice spoke only in absolutes. “I am a witch, through and through.”

Obito could only stare. 

“Like… With magic and stuff?” He finally asked, and Madara nodded. “Could you show me?”

“Magic is, generally, divided into two parts. Some people call those ceremonial and folk magics, and we can stick to that to make it easier.” Madara tapped his finger against chin, as if thoughtfully. “It’s nowhere near as flashy as fiction tends to make it look and I don’t think any parlor magic tricks will satisfy you, so maybe instead I will introduce you to Zetsus?”

“Zetsus…?”

“Did you call, master?”

Obito slowly looked up and promptly dropped a spoon. From the ceiling was hanging a- a mass of white flesh covered in white fuzz, that only upon longer look was uncannily looking human-shaped. Obito made a most undignified sound, but it was always better than scream that tried to push into his vocal chords but he managed to choke down. 

“That is a Zetsu.” Madara explained, shuffling closer to Obito - and Obito was really, really grateful for this. Something about Madara suddenly felt calming in the presence of this thing _ staring _at them with its uncanny yellow eyes. “They are harmless, spirits of forests gnawing at soil and tangled into roots of the many around them. Usually they don’t care for any living things, but those Zetsus serve me.”

The thing slowly descended and landed on a floor and Obito could, after some slow inhales and exhales and Madara’s hand on his back, watch it more carefully. It had something mildly human about face, as if its form wa a mere afterthought, and now that Madara mentioned roots, Obito could see the familiarity. 

“You can touch it, if you want.” Madara said, and motioned the Zetsu closer. It obediently sat on the ground in front of the table. Obito hesitated but reached out, touching the creature’s arm. It was uncanny, indeed a bit fuzzy but feeling completely unlike a fur. A root, a white root. Creature blinked at him and Obito quickly retreated.

“They were the ones that brought our luggage home, you know.” Madara motioned again and Zetsu_ entered the wall of the house _ and disappeared. “They travel much faster under the ground, being creature of roots.”

Obito nodded, slowly. That was… a lot. 

“Did I just see that?” He asked quietly and Madara chuckled. 

“If you want another proof, look around the house.” Madara pointed at the table they were sitting at. “You will notice not a single screw or nail. All of that is made of single block of wood, and you will _ not _find trees as big as this whole house in whole world.” 

Obito slowly moved and glanced under the table (and snatched his spoon here as well) and - indeed. He wouldn’t pay attention if Madara didn’t point it out. He straightened up and looked around. Shelves, wall, even floor upon closer inspection. But then Obito spotted-

“A-ha!” He pointed at the lamp. Screws were very plainly visible in the wood. Madara huffed.

“I got that at Ikea, it doesn’t count!”


	2. Chapter 2

Before sleep, Madara carefully unwrapped Obito’s bandages to take a look at his still fresh scars and ensure all was healing properly. They were both quiet, minds reeling from their chat. Obito still couldn’t forget the Zetsu and how casual Madara was about his “magic”; though if not that white monstrosity, Obito wouldn’t believe Madara. 

His mom and dad always told him magic wasn’t real and yet he couldn’t deny that what he saw was absolutely real. The bed he was lying on was made from a solid piece of a tree as well. There was something in the air, thrumming around him which he didn’t pay attention at first, his mind too focused on new environments and his own helplessness.

A thought occurred to him that maybe those Zetsu creatures could carry him around? Obito guessed that Madara wanted to keep all the magic stuff hidden from the world - that made sense in Obito’s head, and didn’t all the sorcerers hid in faraway places from eyes of others anyway? So maybe he could at least explore the forest - he sometimes visited few when on holidays with parents but never so away from beaten paths, never so deep. 

The thought of the strange white haired skin touching his made him shiver but then, it was that or being stuck in Madara’s hut.

All Madara could think of was how little Obito had now. With every patch of fresh, stitching skin uncovered from under the bandages he could only wonder how now Obito has start everything anew and fresh, and yet so so damaged. Something told Madara that Obito is carefully avoiding talking about his parents and Madara didn’t press. Instead, he listened about other things - what Obito liked and didn’t in school, about his friends there, about his interests and little fascinations (and was pleased to see stars appear in Obito’s eyes when he started talking about his volunteering). 

Bandages, though, were changed in silence. Madara listened for any sounds from Obito if he was too rough but the boy was silent. 

“I will be in the bedroom behind your door,” Madara said when he finished. “If you will want anything.”

Obito nodded and mumbled out a thanks. Madara moved the salt lamp closer and put Obito’s pajamas next to his bed. He was undressed already and he should manage dressing up in loose clothing. It should be fine. 

They said goodnight and Madara left Obito’s bedroom. Obito managed to put on pajamas and crawled under the sheets. He wasn’t exactly tired, his body not used to moving so little in the day, but there was a pull in the back of his brain to go to sleep - and yet his eyes refused to close. 

There were sounds outside he wasn’t used to as well. Flutter of leaves in the wind, sounds of wings and nightbirds, things Obito never experienced in silence such as this. There was no hum of electrical equipment in house or sounds of his parents sleeping when they were away and travelling. Just silence inside and all those strange sounds around him. 

He curled clumsily under the covers, thin enough to not overheat him in the summer night but supplying enough weight for comfort. He had nothing to do, and even if he had his console and was tempted to play a bit, new environment wouldn’t allow him to relax. 

Obito wasn’t sure how much time he spent turning back and forth, trying to not focus on anything on particular. Fantasizing about what Madara could do with magic was safest lines of thoughts. The house was made of solid wood, there were Zetsus which apparently are made of roots in ways Obito felt his skin shiver a bit. What else could Madara do? Is he somehow tied to the forest? Is this what he could do, or maybe Madara could do more than that?

The door opened in the room next to him and Obito stiffened. He heard a shuffle of Madara’s footsteps - and someone else’s. There was no creaking of the panels, solid wooden floor covered with soft carpets muffling the steps but Obito felt as if other person was heavier or a bit less careful with trying to stay quiet. Was it a Zetsu? Obito focused. Madara was saying something, very quietly but then the other person said something back - a bit louder and in much deeper voice, but still intelligible. It wasn’t Zetsu, it’s hissy voice completely unlike the low pleasant rumble Obito heard.

Does it mean that there was someone else in the house _ all along _ ? 

Why Madara didn’t say anything? 

He heard the door to the hut close, some shuffling outside. Obito waited, eyes wide open in the dark, heartbeat pounding so loudly in his ears - and he saw a little bit of light outside the windows. Obito’s first instinct was to get up and see, but he quickly got reminded that he no longer could… Or could he? He squinted in the dark, faint light from outside lighting up the room just enough to see outlines of what little furniture was here. He sat up on bed and then used wall for support to slowly cross small space between bed and window in small jumps. He only hoped that the sound wasn’t as loud as it seemed to be in the strange silence.

He looked outside.

Madara was slowly trudging around house with lantern in one hand and a massive scythe in the other. He had something resembling a headpiece on his head, beads woven into his hair sparkling in little light he had, along with golden patterns on his clothes. Step after step, one close to another in certain distance from the hut. Obito squinted, trying to see more. 

Madara’s lips were moving and his hands were moving a little in the air, lantern swinging back and forth and scythe ominously reflecting the light. 

Was this magic, Madara was doing? Obito propped himself more comfortably near the window, arm against wall. A ritual of sorts? Why did he have to do it so late in night - or maybe he had to? He focused. In some films he saw magic as magical words with immediate reactions but sometimes there were great rituals - was this one of them? If so, then what Madara is doing?

Obito though knew he wouldn’t be able to ask any of those questions. He felt himself tremble and, as much as he tried to be calm, he felt tears gather in his eyes.

Obito was horrified.

This is the man he is supposed to spend next many, many years with? Magic at first sounded cool but this - he was scared of him, of the monsters, of implications. Not all magicians are bad, right? But then, what kind of person took a scythe with themselves so late at night?

There was a sound outside his door, a step. Obito stared at Madara, slowly disappearing from his view. 

_ The other person was still in the hut. _

Obito froze but noise didn’t repeat. He waited long seconds, maybe more - Madara disappeared from sight, his steps leading him around the hut, and it again became so, so dark - but it was quiet. He slowly retreated to his bed, in much slower tempo now. Under the covers he again heard his heart, beating as if it was in his whole body, beating and moving his body along, back and forth, back and forth.

He didn’t know when he fell into restless sleep, filled with Madara approaching him with the scythe as white hand-like roots surrounded him and held him down and those yellow eyes staring straight into his as their skin-not skin wrapped around him and-

Obito woke up, of course he did, it was all a dream but the fear was still here, lingering.

He sat up on bed. Inhaled, exhaled. He didn’t sleep well. Outside it was bright and there were birds singing, cheerfully announcing the morning to the world. That was enough to chase away at least that little bit of yesterday’s scare, and Obito tried to not think about all this too hard, not yet. 

He’d happily lie down a bit more but he desperately needed to go to toilet. For that, he had to cross the common room, thus potentially meet Madara and what were the chances he wouldn’t be awake? And even if he wouldn’t, he’d hear Obito’s awkward shuffling anyway. 

Obito, thought, had needs, so he slowly stood awkwardly up and, using wall as leverage, hopped his way out.   
  


* * *

Madara, after rituals done the night before and despite the good night’s sleep, felt tired. 

Something in this situation: a person other than Hashirama (if Hashirama could be even called a person at all, that is) being in his hut set his senses alight, right next to weird nagging present in his mind ever since he allowed himself to let Obito live with him.

Hashirama whispered to him something then, when he was this close to realizing what it was, voice like a gust making his thoughts scatter on a wind like leaves in autumn. Now with the morning came a realization that Obito and Izuna shared a birthday date - just day and month, but among Uchiha such coincidences were more than just that, a chance.

It’s been twenty two years since Izuna disappeared, leaving behind an empty hut on the other side of the forest, by the lake and marshes, full of signs of Izuna’s descent into darkness - or so his instincts told him. He never could go inside. He never could see what happened in here. He never dared, and believed Hashirama’s words when he told him Izuna wasn’t there anymore.

But Madara still couldn’t accept this fully.

Izuna had disappeared, not died. 

Madara turned restlessly, this time without even Hashirama’s shell resembling a human being accompanying him. Maybe it was for the better, Madara had too many thoughts to focus on anyway. Hashirama’s presence would just make it harder to follow all the threads, pulling in all directions at once. 

Maybe Obito is what he needed, maybe this is why Hashirama gently nudged him towards the boy? Madara did spent last 20 years or so alone, just him and forest and Hashirama, and it wasn’t bad, from his perspective - but that aching void Izuna left behind was still here, untouched and hurting. 

If Madara trusted Hashirama any less, he’d suspect he was somehow behind Obito’s appearance in his life. 

Madara also knew that he wouldn’t be able to subject anyone to orphanage - maybe times made those institutions gentler, maybe over those four decades someone changed something - but a mere thought of Obito, a fragile and still terribly wounded boy being thrown to such a place made Madara shiver with disgust. Izuna was the only good thing those places gave him, returned him to his brother after both were sharply taken out of temples and cultists, the environments they were made for.

Izuna, most likely, would support him taking the boy in anyway. 

Izuna, probably, would want him to raise Obito in the spirit of their own upbringing, surrounded by the occult, though Madara was now all that was left of at least Hashirama’s cult anyway.

And, anyway, how would Madara introduce Hashirama to Obito? When? In what order, what comes first, tell and show or show and tell? Madara never had to teach anyone, always he was the one taught: by his father, by the High Priest, by teachers and finally by Hashirama.

That is, if Hashirama himself won’t just do something on his own.

Madara realized that an empty bed could signify exactly this. He promptly jumped out of bed.

* * *

Madara seemed to not be a person in habit of closing the doors to all the rooms, so Obito found bathroom rather quickly.  Inside, he noticed his own toothbrush in a cup so after relieving himself (terribly awkwardly but Obito managed to support himself against the wall without aggravating the stumps too badly) and ensuring that the sink could support his weight, he managed to brush teeth and clumsily wash his face. 

Obito felt better like this, a bit more cleaner, but he carefully didn’t look in the mirror in front of him. 

He wanted to return to his bedroom and maybe wait for Madara to wake up but.

But.

After he left bathroom and made some awkward hops along the wall, he realized that there was someone in the common room, someone who definitely wasn’t Madara. 

Obito froze as man turned towards him.

He was sitting comfortably on a sofa, a soft smile stretching his lips as he observed Obito, and the boy couldn’t help but  _ stare _ . 

At first glance he looked normal, even man’s long hair was nothing in comparison to Madara’s mane, but in those hair were woven leafs and flowers that seemed to grow right  _ out of _ stranger’s hair. The clothes he wore were unusual, looking like something out of fairytale, brown threads creating intricate patterns on green and cream fabric forming the robes the stranger wore, resembling branches of trees that  _ moved  _ when the man straightened up and stood up from the sofa. Only then Obito realized how  _ huge  _ the man was, top of his head almost brushing against the ceiling. 

Obito would run, but all he could do was press his back against the wall while praying he won’t lose the balance. 

“Hello, Obito.”

It was this voice, the voice Obito heard last night, deep and warm and - did Madara tell this stranger about Obito? They knew each other, right? Then why Madara didn’t tell him there was someone else? Or maybe Obito was just panicking, of course, he was here for so short, maybe the stranger arrived only yesterday, somehow? There must be some explanation, right?

He didn’t notice when the man came closer. He didn’t have time to panic more, though, as man gently extended his left hand in a greeting and Obito too lately realized that shaking the hand with this man would mean letting go of the wall. 

He could be only grateful the man caught him.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Obito tried to ask, but then the man raised him into the air and led him to the sofa, where he gently put the boy down.

“I merely a pillar of this forest,” The man said, sitting next to Obito. “And of many others.” 

Obito only dumbly nodded. Temptation to yell for Madara was rising - Madara at least wasn’t speaking weirdly and explained most of things outright. Something in this man creeped Obito out and he couldn’t put the finger on it, he didn’t have time at all to do so.

“Don’t move.” The man said, and Obito could only look as the man started unwrapping bandages around leg.

And then, Madara entered the common room, black mane an utter mess, loose dark pajama shirt sliding off one shoulder and circles under eyes seemingly even darker than during previous day.

“Hashirama,” he spat out, then took in a deep breath through his nose, seemingly trying to calm himself. “What have I asked you not to do.”

The man - Hashirama - straightened up, smile widening. 

“You put this as if I am doing something  _ bad _ .” Obito using the man’s distraction moved away towards Madara and Madara came closer to him, allowing Obito to cling to him weakly from the sofa. “You made him meet Zetsus, so why couldn’t he meet me yet?”

Madara tsked, annoyed, and Obito used the chance to tug at Madara’s sleeve. “Who is this?” He asked quietly. “Where did he come from? You said you live alone…”. And that seemed to distract Madara enough. He opened his mouth but glanced back at Hashirama, as if not sure what to say. A small nod from Hashirama was, Obito guessed, not supposed to be noticed by the him. 

“This is Hashirama.” Madara finally said after a deep sigh and he sat on the sofa next to Obito. “He doesn’t exactly live here, he just... comes here sometimes.” 

Hashirama knelt down in front of both of them and put his head on Madara’s thigh while smiling playfully at Obito. Somehow now all Obito could think about was then he saw this documentary on TV about giant cats living in reserves, predators and yet wanting to play with people anyway - as long as they weren’t hungry. 

“I just wanted to help.” Hashirama pouted and reached out to Obito’s right leg “I didn’t want to scare you. I just want to make you a new leg.”

And Obito couldn’t help but stare. He looked at where the man touched the stump, barely feeling the gentle touch through layers of bandages, even if skin underneath was raw and sensitive. 

“L-like a real leg?” Obito blinked repeatedly, trying to process the information. “Can you also do magic?” 

And Hashirama actually giggled and rubbed his head against Madara’s thigh, just like a giant cat. Madara only sighed. 

“A prosthetic, made of wood that would grow along with you,” He explained, rolling his eyes. “Let’s say Hashirama is much better at magic than I am and only he could give you such a thing.”

Obito glanced at two men. Maybe under normal circumstances he would comment on their behavior, try to ask about magic or throw more questions at Hashirama - but all he could focus on was that, the wooden leg this strange unearthly man was offering to him… But what if…

Madara noticed the way Obito’s eyes fell down and slowly turned towards stump on his right arm.

“That won’t do.” Hashirama straightened up, all playfulness suddenly disappearing, his eyes more serious. “I can make you an arm and hand but they won’t be  _ yours _ . A leg is a support, and this I can provide.”

Madara only shook his head when Obito turned to him so he decided to just drop it. One shouldn’t look gift horse in the mouth, and if a gift horse comes from a cryptic ethereal stranger, well, one definitely shouldn’t be complaining. Obito nodded slowly.

“Could you make me a leg, please?” He asked and Hashirama’s face lit up. Madara next to him seemed pleased as well, so it wasn’t a bad choice now, was it?

“It will be a pleasure.” Hashirama moved closer to Obito and very, very gently started to unwrap the bandages. Madara sat near, observing Hashirama and keeping an eye on Obito. “Though I will have to warn you it won’t be pleasant,” he said, eyeing the now fully revealed stump, neatly sewn up and healing but still red along the stitches. “I will have to open it up, and it won’t be just a dead piece of wood. It will be alive and growing, along with you.”

“It will hurt.” Madara added.

Obito merely nodded again and braced himself. Hashirama inspected the wound, and pressed a kiss against the red skin here - and Obito wanted to ask what was that, it was so strange, what was he doing; but a he felt a sharp pain from  _ underneath  _ the stump, something curling and expanding inside the thigh and Madara reached out and put Obito’s hand into his, let him dig the nails into his skin while not allowing to reach towards his right leg.

Hashirama merely watched as Obito trembled and cried out in pain, eyes dark and amber. 

Through tears the boy saw something slip between the stitches, something white and alive curling gently outwards, resembling at first a branch but slowly forming a shape more resembling a leg - but with each movement from this thing he could only focus on more pain pulsing in his thigh and each caused more tears to fall. In the blur of colors he saw no red, though, there was no blood.

He closed his eyes and curled more into Madara, one hand still holding his tightly and other stroking his hair slowly, in an attempt to soothe him. Obito clenched his teeth and waited.

It was still nothing in comparison to how he lost his leg in the first place anyway.

Suddenly the pain was.

Gone.

Obito opened his eyes. It ended as suddenly as it started. 

He freed himself from Madara’s embrace and after rubbing the tears away he stared at 

his new leg.

He moved it, experimentally - and _ it responded _ . 

He put it down on a floor - and disappointingly noticed he didn’t feel the carpet.

But when he moved his fingers, they moved.

It was-

“It’s white.”

Madara and Hashirama stared at him.

The leg was indeed white, white like the roots of plants under the earth, with small hair on the surface. Just like Zetsus skin. Obito resisted a shiver.

“It should change color over time.” Hashirama smiled, touching it and raising it and moving it as if to ensure if all is as it should be and - Obito could feel his touch, warm and pleasant, tingling in a strange way. Experimentally he put his other leg on Hashirama’s knee - but no, it just felt like a material, with skin underneath. “But be careful with it, it’s not as durable as normal human leg.”

“It should regrow though if something happens to it, right?” Madara asked and Hashirama nodded. 

When Hashirama let go, Obito touched it, entranced. It moved just right and even if - even when he pressed harder against skin he couldn’t feel muscles and bones underneath but it looked almost human if one were to ignore the strange white color. Even hair on the surface looked like hair on skin of his other leg.

Obito would have to live with it. 

“It’s a mirror image of his other leg, so it should grow just fine.” Hashirama commented on, watching Obito’s experimenting with his new limb, finally grinning when Obito gripped an edge of the sofa and tried to stand up - and promptly falling down, white leg not being able to support his weight, straight into Hashirama’s arms. 

“It’s still a seedling!” he got up and Obito clung to him, noticing also how much weaker the other leg is at that. “Nourish it well and it will be a great support for you.”

“On this note,” Madara got up from sofa, sighing. “Let’s eat something.”

Hashirama was all too happy to carry Obito to the kitchen. Obito tried to focus on how warm the hug the man gave him was.

* * *

After the breakfast (scrambled eggs with forest mushrooms that Obito never tried before; curiously Hashirama refused to eat) and dressing up with help of Madara, Obito could fully focus on his leg, try to take careful steps along the wall. He could more or less support himself on it and thus he could greatly reduce the amount of awkward hopping around.

Madara watched him like a hawk, ready to catch him if needed but the intensity of the stare was greatly reduced by Hashirama sitting behind him and gently brushing his hair. 

Obito could at this point accept Hashirama as a part of his life, though he was really tempted to come to Madara here, now, and ask.

Hashirama clearly was something different, but Madara seemed comfortable enough around him, leaning into Hashirama’s touch and trusting him. That should be enough for Obito… Should, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

For now though, he felt safe. Even if Madara and Hashirama were still both essentially strangers to him and Hashirama remained a mystery; both treated him with kindness - his new leg being a perfect proof for that. They both seemed to desire whatever’s best for Obito, even if Obito struggled with figuring out why exactly - he was related to Madara, that was true, and Hashirama seemed to be close to Madara. Was that enough?

Obito carefully straightened up and took one careful step, hand outstretched towards the wall but not touching it, merely a support at ready; but the second step forced him to support himself again.

His grandmother gave him a phone and just in case -  _ I don’t know what kind of person Madara is, I don’t know why he agreed. Pay close attention to him and if anything, call me and I will take you and try to find something else _ \- but Obito decided to call her later and tell her everything was alright, to calm her down. 

He won’t mention the leg though. From what he understood, magic seemed to be a secret for a reason and Obito will keep it as such.

At first the magic scared him but maybe it wasn't so bad? Madara mentioned Hashirama was better at it - would it mean one could learn it? If all went well, Obito could maybe soon walk again like he used to - his hand was a lost cause and Madara suggested for him to train writing with left hand during the summer, but then, maybe he could ask Madara to teach him something if it was possible?

The mere thought of such possibility made Obito smile a bit. 

When Hashirama was done with managing Madara’s absolute mess of a mane, he came over to Obito, motioning for him to not move. He reached out slowly towards Obito’s neck and motioned Madara closer. 

There was a small maggot crawling on Obito’s skin. 

“Life in the forest.” Madara brushed it away with a shiver, mentally noting to check any potential sources of those. “At some point you get used to spiders in weirdest places.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me long enough to update. I am not the fastest of writers.
> 
> "It's just the beginning it's not the end  
Thing will never be the same again."
> 
> I will try to start writing another part of the series after I am done with Inktober comic, one additional comic and a piece I've been working on since April (but I am not the best of writers so it just goes on and on and on...)
> 
> Thank you for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> If you spot any mistakes or think there should be additional tags, please do tell me.
> 
> Another part of the Wild AU. On this note, if you are feeling curious, I doodled some things on my blog related to the AU and how it could possibly develop so if you want to be a bit spoiled: https://perelka-l.tumblr.com/tagged/wild-au-tag


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